Despicable You
Trolling about the place
your radar must be broken
your mind wanders
far in the wrong direction
your twisted pleasures
scratches against my life
like nails on a chalkboard
turning my sunshine to rain
your words taste like milk
that has been left out alone
the government warned us
about the Internet
now bonding with humans
face to face
sends dancing endorphins
but are frozen shocked
by disillusioned speech
the brown eyed pot belly
sprawled across the chair
sends shudders down my spine
there’s just something not right
chuntering over there
the office clock ticks away
but I’m trapped in creepy moments
of seductive despicability
but it doesn’t work on me
my disdain pauses your conversing
the innocent shrivelled shrugging
shows a lifetime of rehearsing
to me you are a real life Gru
vile and wicked; twisted you.
Sitting on the stone steps of Parliament House
in my warm grey coat and snuggly scarf
clutching to my hot vanilla chai latte
as I watch brown leaves floating in the wind.
What a marvellous moment to be here!
To see, the world tick-tocking like clockwork.
Chatter echoes from the crowded cafes
as the trams jingle their morning songs.
Sometimes I stop – listen – and wonder
it’s a funny thing we do everyday
existing and living; playing the game
Is there meaning? And it’s not forty-two.
It feels like a never-ending story
where we’re born in the middle – missing
pieces of the beginning – a puzzle
that we spend our lives trying to work out.
Some say there are three things; life, death, taxes
but I think it’s human architecture
life for me, is Mufasa and Simba
it’s the story of how we all connect.
In a giant globe of activity
this world is an enigmatic story
that happens to feature humanity
and stepping on a butterfly changes history.
Charlie Ann Alford 
You must be logged in to post a comment.